Nothing Loved
by Moth Stafu
Summary: AU story revolving around Portman. Set after D3, Ducks are around 16/17/18-ish. Adam dies, Portman writes a sonnet for him. This is the story of why. *on hold... the author has writer's block. (read: the author is lazy)*
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the idea. Ducks belong to Disney; the poem belongs to Madeline L'Engle, except I changed one word. Don't sue me.

A/N: This, to me, is the best thing I've ever written. Not necessarily quality wise, but emotionally. Maybe it's just that I love this poem and the book it came from. Who knows? But this is now my favorite. Please review and tell me what you think, it would mean a lot to me. I don't care if you think it sucked more than anything that's ever been written, I just want to know what other people think about this. Also tell me if you know whose POV I wrote it from. If you know me, it will be amazingly easy ^_^… if not, it's still pretty easy since I named almost everyone else. This is a short story. I have no intentions of continuing it.

Nothing Loved 

We gather by the big oak tree that overlooks his grave. The paper is still there, fluttering in the breeze, held down by a small stone. Charlie is the first to see it and bends down to pick it up, catching the attention of everybody else. No one says anything, but they're all wondering. I try to look curious, but I don't know how good a job I'm doing.

Charlie reads the paper silently and then passes it to Guy. Guy and Connie read it together and pass it on to Julie, who passes it to Jesse. It travels around our group, finally reaching me. I read it over again and then hand it back to Charlie, who places it back under the rock before searching our faces to see who wrote it. Well, some of our faces. He skips over Averman, Fulton, Goldberg, Luis, and me. Of course none of us are sensitive enough to have written anything like that.

I don't know why I wrote it actually. It's not like I was ever really close to Adam. I guess it was for the rest of the team. And partly for me I guess. Whether anyone knew it or not, Adam helped me. He helped me see that just when life looks like it can't get any worse; it pulls the rug out from under your feet just to make sure you're paying attention. Unless you stop it. So I guess what I'm really trying to say is that Adam helped me see that you have to control your own life, not go with the flow. 

When I stop thinking and look around, the rest of the team is turning to walk back down to the bus stop. I take one last look at Adam's grave with the paper fluttering on top and smile. A flower is growing directly above the paper. Looks like Adam approves.

_The earth will never be the same again._

_Rock, water, tree, iron, share this grief_

_As distant stars participate in pain._

_A candle snuffed, a falling star or leaf,_

_A team mate death, O this particular loss_

_Is heaven mourned; for if no angel cried,_

_If this small one was tossed away as dross,_

_The very galaxies then would have lied._

_How shall we sing our love's song now_

_In this strange land where all are born to die?_

_Each tree and leaf and star show how_

_The universe is part of this one cry,_

_That every life is noted and is cherished,_

_And nothing loved is ever lost or perished._


	2. Chapter One

Okay… originally I wasn't going to continue this, but then several people said I should and my muse gave me some ideas and yeah… *sigh* I don't know if this chap is any good. I wrote it through writer's block, so I want honest opinions. And some constructive criticism. Onwards!

Nothing Loved

Chapter One

"Hey! Bandana boy!" I turn slowly to see Riley standing there with two of his goons.

"My name is Portman, asshole. Having your goons to protect you doesn't change my birth certificate." I turn back around and start walking towards the dorms. Suddenly Riley is standing in front of me. I can sense his goons on either side and slightly behind me, waiting to jump me at the slightest twitch of His Majesty's eyebrows.

I raise my own eyebrow at him and curl my lip into a silent snarl, taking a small amount of pleasure in the fear that flickers across his face, remaining in his eyes. "You're wasting my time Riley. What the hell do you want?" 

His eyes narrow and he grabs the front of my shirt, sticking his face close to mine. This kid really amuses me. "Stay away from Jessica Bates." I furrow my brow pretending not to recognize the name. 

"You mean that new chick on the cheerleading squad?" 

"Don't fucking play innocent." Riley's breath stinks and his teeth are yellowish. I stare in fascination as spittle forms on his lips and chin. I wonder why his mouth is still moving and realize he's still talking. "I saw you talking to her just 5 minutes ago in the hall. Stay the hell away from her." He steps back, letting my shirt go.

"Worried Riley?" He glares and shakes his head. Too quickly. I grin at him and walk away whistling and wondering what he would have tried to do if he knew I have a date with her tomorrow night.

"Yo, Portman!" This time it's Goldberg. I nod to him and keep walking, slowing a bit to let him fall in step.

"What's up Goldie?"

"Just thought I'd let you know we're meeting in mine and Kenny's dorm tonight to plan what to do to Varsity." I nod again and he drops back, calling across the quad to Dwayne.

By the time I get to the room I share with Fulton, I've put together a couple of ideas for our prank. It's got to be good, considering the last prank Varsity played on us consisted of stealing our clothes and hockey gear from the locker room and making us walk across campus in those damn postage stamps Eden Hall calls towels.

Short, yes. Good, maybe. Review please. Flames, constructive criticism, praise, doesn't matter.


	3. Chapter Two

Well, here's my new chapter. Finally. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

This chapter is dedicated to Shamrock the wonder muse, who I can always count on to help me smooth the story out and make it take off. 

While this chapter may seem pointless, it establishes a major part and gives a little insight on how I'm portraying Portman. Onwards!

Nothing Loved

Chapter 2

 "Your mom called." Fulton hands me a piece of paper as I walk into out room. There's a number I've never seen before on it. 213 area code? What's mom doing in L.A.?

I pick up the phone and dial, expecting a hotel receptionist to pick up the other end.

"Hello?"

"Hi, could I have room number..." I trail off, realizing two things. One, there was no room number on the note, and two, whoever is on the other end sounds awfully familiar. "Mom?"

"Hey hon!" She has that high-pitched note in her voice that tells me she's nervous. Shit. Oh well, no sense in beating around the bush.

"So what's with the L.A. area code, mom?"

"Well Dean, I… well, I moved. I live in L.A. now. So I guess technically _we_ moved, even though you weren't here." My first thought is _Great. She's babbling._ And then what she'd actually said registers.

"MOVED??" The word comes out as a roar an Fulton raises an eyebrow at me. I lower my voice slightly. "Mom, why the hell did you move? And why goddamn California?" 

" Honey, please watch your language. I moved because we needed a cheaper house. Also, I've wanted to move to L.A. for a while now. This was the perfect opportunity." Her voice is wavering slightly. Shit. Now all I need is for her to start crying.

"Mom, look. We need to talk about this later. I am amazingly pissed off that you didn't consult, or even see fit to _tell_ me that all my possessions have been relocated to a city thousands of miles away. But right now, I have hockey practice." I slam down the receiver, stare at it for several seconds and then pick up the whole phone, yanking the cord out from the wall. Fulton jumps up to stop me but I move too fast, throwing the phone against the wall with as much force as I can muster and taking a minute amount of satisfaction in the plastic shards that are shot in all directions. Fulton looks helplessly at our third formerly working telephone.

"Portman, hockey practice was cancelled, remember?" He sounds cautious. Well, good. It would be a lot harder to throw him against the wall, but in my current mood, I could probably catch his best slap shot with my teeth and live to tell about it.

"Yeah, I know. Look, I'm going to go skate. I'll be at Goldie's room by six." Grabbing my ice skates and stick I leave, slamming the door behind me hard enough to crack the frame again. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Skating has always been calming to me. Hockey has too, but in a different way. See, hockey let's me take my anger out on the puck and the other team, unless of course I get thrown out, while skating just pushes my problems back and lets me view them logically. However, since I don't feel like hashing over my mom's decision, I turn my thoughts to my date tomorrow night.

Jessica Bates. Not a bad name, no unusual spellings. She's a typical cheerleader: blonde hair, blue eyes and wide smile. Slender with nicely toned muscles, sunny personality. And most definitely not my type, if I even have a type.

See, I have no idea what my 'type' is. All I know is that it's not Jessica Bates. And since I knew that before I even talked to her, why'd I bother to ask her out? Because if I listen to the rumors, all I want is a nice piece of ass. 

From what I've heard, Dean Portman is the ultimate male chauvinist pig. So of course he'd go for ditzy cheerleaders. God forbid I might be able to hold an intelligent conversation, or even _think_ intelligently. Half the things I've apparently done, I must've done sleepwalking since I sure as hell don't remember any of them.

I indulge in one self-pitying sigh and glance at my watch. 5:30. Might as well go take a shower.

 ~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

That's it for now. I know it's short again, I know. I just couldn't go into the next part and make it sound right still. Oh, one more thing. I have nothing against cheerleaders, unless they're ditzy and slutty, which all cheerleaders in this story are going to be. So don't accuse me of stereotyping. 


	4. Chapter Three

New chapter finally! I wrote most of this a couple weeks ago, but I lost the paper and never got around to writing it up until now. I donno, I don't really like how it flows (or doesn't), so let me know what you honestly think and what I should do to improve. Thanks!

Nothing Loved 

Chapter 3

 Stepping into the locker room, I'm struck by how quiet it is. Normally when I'm here, the rest of the Ducks are too. 

 I turn on a shower and then strip and wrap a towel around my waist, testing the water before I step in. Perfect. As the water runs over me, I feel myself relaxing more and more until I'm almost asleep. When I finally drag my eyes open to check my watch, I have exactly 10 minutes to get to Goldberg's dorm. 

 Sighing, I turn the water off and reach for my towel as I open the curtain. But my towel isn't there. And it hasn't fallen on the floor either.

"Looking for this?" I snap my head up and see Riley standing there, looking smug and holding my towel.

"Why Riley!" I bat my eyelashes at him, hiding a smirk. If I do this right… "I didn't know you cared!" 

Sure enough, he throws my towel at me. I don't bother walking over to my locker. It's obvious he's taken my clothes. A quick glance also reveals my other possessions gone. Riley is looking smug again.

"Your clothes and the rest of your crap is being spread out over the campus in a general trail to your dorm. You better hope you find it all before the dean gives you detention for indecent exposure."  As he turns to walk out, I launch myself at him, grab his shoulder and whirl him around to introduce his nose to my fist. 

Something crunches and he yelps, frantically trying to stop the blood pouring from the crushed bone and cartilage that was once his nose. He runs out and this time I let him go.

Twenty minutes later, I arrive at Goldie's dorm juggling my skates, stick, clothes, CD's, Discman, keys and wallet while desperately trying to keep my towel from falling off. Kicking the door, I wait until Goldie appears and push past him, reaching the bathroom moments before I would have embarrassed myself, Connie and Julie.

When I'm dressed, organized and calmed, I step out into the room and grab a spot on the floor. Fulton looks at me warily, remembering my mood before and knowing this can't have improved it. I grin, which I know won't reassure him and shut my eyes.

"Varsity?" Goldie wants to know. I can hear in his voice that he wants a fight.

"Riley." I open one eye and watch the team murmur angrily. "It's taken care of. He won't do it again." They don't look ready to drop it. "What are we here for anyway?"

Ken speaks up. "Well, we gotta figure out a way to revenge on Varsity for the whole towel thing." 

"Funny you should talk Ken, those towels are normal sized for you." Fulton points out. "It's guys like me and Portman and Goldie who look like we're wearing washcloths."

"Postage stamps." I mutter. "They're fucking postage stamps. Anyway, I had a couple ideas but I donno if they'll work. You guys got anything?"

"Well, we were thinking something along the lines of hair dye in their shampoo. Pink would fit them nicely." Julie has this evil grin on her face that's mildly disturbing. "If we got that semi-permanent crap, they'd have to dye their hair to get it out."

In the end, we decide on a mixture of pink hair dye and that hair removal cream. We know that most of Varsity is very picky about their hair and use conditioner, which means we can put the hair dye in the shampoo and the removal crap in the conditioner. Perfect.

We watch a couple of movies after that and by the time me and Fulton get back to our dorm, it's pretty late and there's a note on the door that says I have to go see the dean tomorrow at 10:30am. Fun times. 

"Mr. Portman, it has come to my attention that Mr. Riley's nose has mysteriously been broken. He refuses to tell me who did it, but I heard that you were in the locker room with him at the time his nose broke." Suddenly, I'm tired of all this. So I'll fucking get detention. 

"Actually dean, I broke his nose. I was pissed off at him and I broke the bastard's nose." He's staring at me like I just told him I was abducted and probed by aliens and they want to take over the school. 

"You admit it? Well, that won't get you anywhere." Evidently he's decided I wanted a lighter punishment. "4 weeks of detention Mr. Portman. And a 10:00 curfew." 

"Alright." I stand up and walk out of the office as he stares after me in shock. 


End file.
